#MorbidFascination

[aifanfictions]

Write a story about (y/n) being the Phantomhive maid who helps Ciel and Sebastian with their cases and after going to the undertaker for information, Undertaker starts to slowly fall in love with (y/n)

Whims of the Reaper

In the grand halls of the Phantomhive Manor, (Y/N) continued her diligent work as the ever-graceful maid of the distinguished household. Each day, the bond with Ciel and Sebastian grew stronger, and her efficiency in managing the grand estate reached new heights. But, little did she know, the eccentric storm was brewing, ready to unravel the calm of her structured life.

The peculiar tale began on a foggy evening when a case took Ciel Phantomhive, the young Earl, and his loyal demon butler, Sebastian, to the Funeral Parlor run by the enigmatic Undertaker. The mortician had an unyielding fascination with death, and his macabre sense of humor was as peculiar as his profession. As they stepped into the dimly lit parlor, (Y/N) couldn't help but feel a shiver down her spine. The Undertaker's peculiar aura was impossible to ignore.

Undertaker emerged from the shadows with a dramatic flair, a morbid chuckle escaping his lips. His eyes, the color of a stormy sea, gleamed with twisted interest as he welcomed his guests. "Ah, young Phantomhive and Sebastian! What brings you to my humble establishment today?"

With an air of mystery and mischief, Ciel explained the nature of their case, and Undertaker was immediately engrossed. His odd commentary, a unique blend of the morbid and the surreal, left (Y/N) both intrigued and baffled. Her wide eyes darted from Undertaker to her young master and his butler, trying to make sense of it all.

As the conversation continued, Undertaker's fascination with their case was overshadowed by his growing intrigue in the unassuming Phantomhive maid. (Y/N) stood near the door, her presence both calm and bewitched by the eccentricities she was witnessing.

Undertaker couldn't help but be drawn to her. There was something about the way she furrowed her brow at his oddities, her innocence contrasting his morbid world. He longed to unravel the mysteries of her heart just as he did with the souls that came into his care.

When the business was concluded, Ciel and Sebastian prepared to leave. Undertaker's eyes, however, were no longer on the Phantomhive Earl but on the Phantomhive maid who stood near the door.

Approaching (Y/N), he leaned closer, his breath chillingly cool on her ear. "You, my dear, are not like the others who grace my parlor. You see, I find your innocence utterly captivating."

(Y/N) blinked in surprise, her cheeks flushing slightly. "Thank you, sir, but I must be going now."

Undertaker's laughter danced with an eerie melody. "Oh, my dear, I hope to see more of you in the future. There is something truly delightful about your presence amidst all this death."

As (Y/N) stepped out of the Funeral Parlor, she couldn't shake the feeling that Undertaker was unlike anyone she'd ever met. His eccentricity and morbid fascination were a stark contrast to the life she led at the Phantomhive Manor. Yet, there was a curiosity in her heart, a yearning to understand the mysteries that lay beneath his peculiar exterior.

Unbeknownst to (Y/N), Undertaker's interest in her had awakened a dormant side of his own heart. His fascination for death and the unknown was slowly eclipsed by a desire to understand the living, to grasp the complexities of human emotion, and to delve into the enchanting depths of (Y/N)'s soul.

As the days passed, (Y/N)'s encounters with Undertaker became more frequent. His visits to the Phantomhive Manor, each more eccentric than the last, would soon become a peculiar routine. His fondness for tea parties, during which he regaled (Y/N) with tales of the dearly departed, gradually transformed into moments of lighthearted banter and shared laughter.

The Phantomhive household watched with varying degrees of amusement and concern as Undertaker, the eccentric mortician, attempted to court the Phantomhive maid with a perplexing mix of macabre curiosity and eccentric charm. While Ciel and Sebastian were ever watchful of the maid's safety, they couldn't deny the curious bond that seemed to be forming.

Undertaker's heart, hidden beneath layers of eccentricity and morbidity, began to beat in a way it hadn't for centuries. And for (Y/N), the journey was equally baffling and captivating, as she found herself inexplicably drawn to the reaper whose world was as mysterious as the afterlife itself.

Each tea party with Undertaker brought new tales, bizarre stories that ranged from tragic to utterly absurd. They reveled in laughter, the distinct camaraderie growing between the reaper and the maid, both trapped in a dance of eccentricity that only they could understand.

Yet, there was something that Undertaker couldn't quite put into words. A feeling that defied logic, a longing that went beyond the realm of morbid fascination. He found himself entranced by the way (Y/N) would touch her fingers to her lips when she was lost in thought, or the way her eyes sparkled with innocence when she found his bizarre tales amusing.

His attraction to her was a complex tapestry of desire and intrigue, woven with the threads of both life and death. He couldn't help but wonder what it was about her that had captured his reaper's heart.

(Y/N) too found herself intrigued by the peculiar reaper. She had never met anyone like Undertaker, whose eccentricity was a stark contrast to the rigid world she had known. His stories, while bizarre, held a unique charm, and she couldn't help but feel a strange fondness for the mortician who found delight in death.

Yet, as Undertaker slowly unraveled the enigma that was (Y/N), he couldn't help but wonder if there was room in his heart for a love that was as unconventional as he was. As the days turned into weeks, his courtship of the Phantomhive maid took on a new dimension, a blend of eccentricity and longing that defied the boundaries of life and death.

As the eccentric reaper and the charming maid embarked on this peculiar journey of affection, the Phantomhive Manor witnessed the unfolding of a love story unlike any other. The grand halls that once echoed with secrets were now filled with the whimsical laughter of a reaper who danced with the living and a maid who dared to uncover the mysteries of the afterlife.

And so, amidst the eccentricity and the enigma, Undertaker and (Y/N) were drawn into a love that was as peculiar as it was profound. It was a tale of fascination, an eccentric affection that challenged the conventional understanding of love, and it would continue to unfold with each bizarre tea party and every morbidly delightful encounter.

In the grand halls of the Phantomhive Manor, where secrets and enigmas abounded, the most unconventional love story was in the making, and it would continue to unravel with each tea party, every eccentric tale, and every moment of laughter that defied the boundaries of life and death.

NOTE! This story was generated by OpenAI

[dailyfont-com]

Moritat's font is unpredictable, enigmatic, charming, yet elusive and deadly, with a winning smile and devil-may-care personality, reflecting the artistic style of ELEPHANTMEN artist Justin Norman.

Link: https://l.dailyfont.com/BSuF9

[leslieworks]

Morbid fascination. Spiders are quite amazing. This one observed while outside in the courtyard at the Hampstead Antique Emporium. . . . . #hampsteadantiqueemporium #inthecourtyard #hangingout #watchingaspider #spider #spidersweb #spidersprey #grasshopper #morbidfascination (at Hampstead Antique & Craft Emporium) https://www.instagram.com/p/CTHHcw2Ate4/?utm_medium=tumblr

[seizethedarkness]

“The human being cannot live in a condition of emptiness for very long: if he is not growing toward something, he does not merely stagnate; the pent-up potentialities turn into morbidity and despair, and eventually into destructive activities.”
-Rollo May
.
.
.
https://www.instagram.com/p/CMJNPdChjZ7/?igshid=xv7sll443ne6

[angpama]

Mi estiaje de hoy lunes en La Opinión de Murcia, con algunos apuntes rápidos sobre la democracia estadounidense en general y su sistema electoral en particular #ángelpaniagua #estiajes #laopinióndemurcia #autumncolumn #columnadeotoño #november #unitedstates #estadosunidos #presidentialelection2020 #eleccionespresidenciales2020 #donaldtrump #joebiden #morbidfascination #fascinaciónenfermiza #informativesubmission #pleitesíainformativa #supposedequality #supuestaigualdad #electoralcollege #colegioelectoral #threefifthscompromise #compromisodelostresquintos #alexanderkeyssar #economistintelligenceunit #unidaddeinteligenciadeleconomist #democracyindex #índicededemocracia #flaweddemocracy #democraciacondeficiencias #yasiesomedecíssiosgusta (en Cartagena, Murcia) https://www.instagram.com/p/CHYc58BFlcP/?igshid=1dmm0v47ravqk

[kaseyhillauthor]

It's live!!! Tattered Wings Series by K.H. Soul on Fire Poetic Series Vol 1 #morbidfascination Its a morbid fascination of mine Yearning to be free Begging to stay caged Enslaved The mind is beautiful But also a twisted cruel and torturous device That leaves one reaching for love Craving it Starving Knowing its unrequited And chooses to remain shackled To the melancholy The woes The numbing satisfaction Well numb isn't the word Its a peaceful floating As if one is suspended in death Because if you can't feel pain You can't feel your heart shattering Into a tiny million pieces Every person experiences an ethereal sojourn that changes their perception on the grand scheme of life. They awaken to a different experience shadowed from the previous day. Some awaken to happiness, contentment, and absolute paradise while others awaken to tragedy, despair, and a sense of hopelessness that cannot be shaken. Tattered Wings is an epitamy of one poet's journey starting with heart break and devastation that left her shatterred, in pieces, yearning for reprieve, and baring her soul sprawled out on the floor. You can see the poet as she struggles to overcome the daily challenges life has presented to her and begging the almighty for a reprieve. A darkness shrouds her and she feels the inky black abode breathing down her neck as she pushes forward, somedays barely being able to drag herself from the abyss she dips her toes in. She whileaways the sunrises taking for granted the brush strokes of joy and love that temper her dark canvas while the following sunsets leave her feeling desolate and forlorn for taking such immeasurable grace without appreciating it. Follow this woman as she shows us her dark pilgrimage in this beautifully crafted poetic series that paints a canvas using the inky darkness of her soul as her light is trying to break free to set her soul alight. Kindle US $2.99--> https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07B29CGPH #qotd #quoteoftheday #quotes #writer #writing #poet #poetry #poem #author #kaseyhillauthor #theeclecticquill #soulonfire #tatteredwings #angelsonthemoon #dreamsofabrokensoul #tiptoethroughthetulips #bittersweetsymphony #stillclimbingmountains #de

[matteohudson]

Now Listening: LIK - Misanthropic Breed. #lik #likmisanthropicbreed #theweird #decay #funaralanthem #corrosivesurvival #femalefataltotheflesh #misanthropicbreed #fleshfrenzy #morbidfascination #wolves #facesofdeath #becoming #2020 #2020album #deathmetal #nowplaying #nowlistening https://www.instagram.com/p/CF0JU9wjj2y/?igshid=1c7hf6l1tp4pd

[rileybug5689]

Stopped in Alabama for lunch and to check out an antique shop. Found this gem in a stack old photos. Im in love! Its a voctorian post mortem post card!!! Only 25 cents!! ❤❤ #postmortem #postmortempostcard #momentomori #morbidfascination (at Eufaula, Alabama)

[trnstlanticism]

Do you mean everybody tell you tea/coffee preferences or mutuals? BECAUSE I WANNA TALK ABOUT DELICIOUS FLUIDS!

NO ANYONE CAN SEND ME THEM!! PLEASE I’M SO CURIOUS

[broadcastemotion]

Charles Manson died. Vincent Bugliosi prosecuted him. He’s also dead. This book is pretty great. I found this old paperback at thrift shop in Bloomsburg, PA about fifteen years ago. Tarantino’s new movie about 1969 just got picked up by Sony Pictures and will partially be about the Manson murders. Go watch some Manson interviews and parole hearings. They’re absolutely INSANE. Because you know...HE WAS. . . . #thisisnotatribute #justanacknowledgment #charlesmanson #vincentbugliosi #1969 #1969okallacrosstheusa #serialkiller #serialkillers #morbidfascination

[ariadne-inthesky]

hzsokovia·:

‘Don’t look into their eyes!’ The warning came too late forthe Colonel as he found himself face to face with the beautiful and perfectvisage of his recently dead wife and son. Enthralled by their sudden appearancehe stopped in his tracks and breathed her name. Possibly the first time sincethat tragic discovery. He had just unearthed his family’s body not even a fewdays ago. Heike smiled as she got closer, ushering Karl to his side as theydrew closer to him. The fight and chaos went away as he lowered his weapon. Thescreams from the outside seemed to have silence just for him. “Моја љубав..?” (’ My love..? ’) Hisfire and only light to his darkness continues to smile at him with the same lookof understanding he was only able find from her. She and Karl came closer, hereached out to them his grip on his weapon relaxed further as her hands werejust inches away from his face.

A flash of devilish intent came a second but the man was fartoo gone to noticed the moment of danger when all too sudden a force pushed himfar from the reaches of death.

His sword clattered a few feet away from his slacked grasp ashe landed hard on his back.  As hestruggled to get up, shaking his head slightly from the sudden impact andreaching for his weapon again he witnessed a flurry of movements that he didnot think was possible for the cryptozoologist. He watched with morbidfascination as the demons that were circulating him earlier were beingdecimated and with her voice echoing the holy church ensure of them being stunnedand weaken from pulling most of their tricks. As much he wanted to go rush inand help all that violence and viscera of her cutting down demons disguised aschildren were more than enough to make his stomach turn a little.

As he struggled to realigned with himself from being so close todeath that he could feel the reaper’s bony presence. His love and little eaglebroke off from the main group and he was forced to contend with pointing arifle at them. His mind and heart screamed not to pull the trigger which gavethe two beings more than enough time to approach him again. “Papa?” The wallscame crashing down again as the choice to shoot or not was taken from him with a swipeof a sword of righteous fury. The last thing he saw from them was their fearfulexpressions before they disappeared and turned into dust.

Something broke, as the silent Colonel his facial expressionremains impassive as he gripped the weapon with renewed energy as he tackled theclearly exhausted Ariadne with his shoulder. Her words of reason fell on deaf earsas he continues his advance as the steel flashed from the sunlight’s rayspeeking through the cracked window panels of the church. Twice the tip of thesteel nearly cuts into Ari, it was ..quite clear the griefstricken Colonel has the intent to  cut flesh. “How…could you.” came a weaken rasp from thelack of use. Why interfere was left unsaid as his steel missed its mark, hismovements becoming sloppy and less graced and became more from a desperate man.

She would have survived being impaled by her own blade. The cuts were nothing compared to what she had been through before and yet, it was with a desperate energy she rolled over to escape his fury, doubts rolling at the back of her mind. Maybe they got hold of his soul in the end ? Maybe she had arrived too late - unable to save him, like Arnaud - once more ? But the holy sword had stopped shining and relief seized her heart - nothing demonic in Helmut, but anger. And pain. Sadness, too. Very human emotions, conflagrating in an explosion of hate against the undead who just broke the dangerous but comfortable illusion. And she understood. Which wouldn’t mean she would not defend herself, of course. Nor try to reason with the mourning colonel. “Do you think I enjoyed it ?” A real question sounding more like a sob, as the horror of the situation finally took its toll on the usually flegmatic cryptozoologist. She had rushed through the still unstable town to save him, less than a few minutes after hearing of their deaths - her friends, too, like Helmut. She had to slice through their image and then her own kids to save him. And of course, now she had to deal with him, too. Of course. Things could never be simple, couldn’t they ? How could you ? Well, because friends don’t let friends get their soul sucked away by minor demons. That was why - but he wasn’t ready to hear it, wasn’t he ? Instead, she sighed and the undead wavered under the assault. “They are dead, Helmut...” She pared with an energy shield, but he was too swift and sliced through the cloth on her back. Nevertheless, she persisted in her exhausted defence, stumbling back. “They’re not.... Coming...” Ariadne then charged back, trying to push him away by simply ramming him with said energy shield, but her own sword sliced through her cheek, a pained yowl escaping her lips. She could feel her body giving up, pushed through its last stand. Even magic fizzled out of her wounded hand in a few silver sparkles as she tried to morph the shield into another ball of energy to push him away. “...Back...” Her legs gave up and she finally kneeled in front of Helmut. Panting and in pain. If he wanted to hurt her, so be it - as long as he didn’t try to kill himself. - Everything but that - Ariadne wouldn’t die, anyway, and she understood his wrath, born out of the tragedy he was caught in. And her heart wept for him. And for Heike. And Karl. And her own children which she had to kill. Once more - you never got used to that. “They wouldn’t have wanted you to die, Helmut...” And Ariadne awaited his sentence, on her knees, tears streaming along her cheeks, adding salt to the burnts caused by the demons’ blood. Grey eyes locked in Helmut’s own in a little defiant act - probably useless, faced with the violent expression of his grief, but she could try.

[hernameisjames-blog]

Were you scared? Wasn't it exciting? #EAP #Haunted #quote #Palahniuk #poetry #macabre #morbidfascination

[maswartz]

ninjazaku:

jokerxtreme36:

k-a-t00:

rock10zxa:

riderumbra:

morbidfascination:

a-gay-nerds-blog:

kamen-apple-kinkshaming:

rock10zxa:

ninjadrive:

backtornado:

Kamen Rider, a serious show: a compilation.

Originally posted by boogieonthebeach

Originally posted by meownnaise

I’m sorry, I have to contribute to this. This is a post that could literally almost go on forever.

Bless the bugmen fandom.

i saw this was missing some important ones

we’re doin’ gifs now? ok.

Last One is my FAVE.

@whispersfromvega

[kaseyhillauthor]

View this post on Instagram

A post shared by Kasey Hill (@kaseyhillauthor)

It's live!!! Tattered Wings Series by K.H. Soul on Fire Poetic Series Vol 1 #morbidfascination Its a morbid fascination of mine Yearning to be free Begging to stay caged Enslaved The mind is beautiful But also a twisted cruel and torturous device That leaves one reaching for love Craving it Starving Knowing its unrequited And chooses to remain shackled To the melancholy The woes The numbing satisfaction Well numb isn't the word Its a peaceful floating As if one is suspended in death Because if you can't feel pain You can't feel your heart shattering Into a tiny million pieces Every person experiences an ethereal sojourn that changes their perception on the grand scheme of life. They awaken to a different experience shadowed from the previous day. Some awaken to happiness, contentment, and absolute paradise while others awaken to tragedy, despair, and a sense of hopelessness that cannot be shaken. Tattered Wings is an epitamy of one poet's journey starting with heart break and devastation that left her shatterred, in pieces, yearning for reprieve, and baring her soul sprawled out on the floor. You can see the poet as she struggles to overcome the daily challenges life has presented to her and begging the almighty for a reprieve. A darkness shrouds her and she feels the inky black abode breathing down her neck as she pushes forward, somedays barely being able to drag herself from the abyss she dips her toes in. She whileaways the sunrises taking for granted the brush strokes of joy and love that temper her dark canvas while the following sunsets leave her feeling desolate and forlorn for taking such immeasurable grace without appreciating it. Follow this woman as she shows us her dark pilgrimage in this beautifully crafted poetic series that paints a canvas using the inky darkness of her soul as her light is trying to break free to set her soul alight. Kindle US $2.99--> https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07B29CGPH #qotd #quoteoftheday #quotes #writer #writing #poet #poetry #poem #author #kaseyhillauthor #theeclecticquill #soulonfire #tatteredwings #angelsonthemoon #dreamsofabrokensoul #tiptoethroughthetulips #bittersweetsymphony #stillclimbingmountains #de

[pumpkinlattespice]

The Lake

In spring of youth it was my lot To haunt of the wide world a spot The which I could not love the less- So lovely was the loneliness Of a wild lake, with black rock bound, And the tall pines that towered around. But when the Night had thrown her pall Upon that spot, as upon all, And the mystic wind went by Murmuring in melody- Then-ah then I would awake To the terror of the lone lake. Yet that terror was not fright, But a tremulous delight- A feeling not the jewelled mine Could teach or bribe me to define- Nor Love-although the Love were thine. Death was in that poisonous wave, And in its gulf a fitting grave For him who thence could solace bring To his lone imagining- Whose solitary soul could make An Eden of that dim lake.

-Edgar Allan Poe

[amelieneamon]

For chebruttafigura

Hermann Goering after WWI